He felt exhausted, frustrated, torn. Yet he still had some difficult decisions to make. Like how far he was willing to go to manipulate Madison into lending him Ellis's truck. He knew Gibbons would be calling him--if not tomorrow, then the next day.
"I just don't understand it," Madison murmured. The movement of her lips, tickling his bare skin, was enough to make his heart race. "I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt and humiliate another human being."
Caleb pressed her closer, enjoying the sensation of her against him while consciously working to keep his thoughts from turning sexual. Having Madison in his bed would give him a lot of comfort, but he was pretty sure sex wasn't the type of comfort she had in mind--and it certainly wasn't a memory she'd appreciate once she learned who he was. "Psychologists claim most violence is about power."
"I don't see how hurting someone or something weaker makes a man feel better about himself."
"Neither do I," he said, admiring the slight tilt at the end of her nose and the fullness of her lips. He remembered the softness of those lips all too well....
Before the temptation to abandon his morals could strike again, he stepped back, grabbed a sweatshirt he'd left on the couch earlier and held it out to her. "Put this on, and I'll walk you over to your place."
She pulled the sweatshirt over her head while he held the door.
"I'm sorry for waking you," she said as they crossed the drive.
Caleb jammed his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn't touch her. Now that he'd created some space between them, he needed to maintain it. If she cozied up to him again, he doubted he'd be able to stop himself from at least testing how she might respond to his desire for deeper intimacy. When the truth came out, she'd end up hating him for making love to her under such deception. But there was the argument that she was going to hate him anyway....
"No worries," he said. "My door's always open."
She smiled. "I like you, Caleb Trovato," she said. "I'm glad you moved in."
They'd reached her door. Caleb leaned a shoulder against the front of the house while she stood at the threshold.
He liked her, too. Which only made his next question that much more difficult to ask.
Fixing a picture of Susan's battered body in his mind, he called up the rage he felt at whoever had hurt her. "By the way," he said. "Any chance you know someone who owns a truck I could borrow?"
"What for?"
"I have a friend who's moving and could really use some help."
"When do you need it?"
"Tomorrow or Saturday, if possible."
She seemed somewhat hesitant, as though she was going to refuse him. But then her smile returned. "My dad's truck is just sitting in the garage. I'll see what I can do."
IT RAINED THE FOLLOWING day, tiny drops that quickly turned into a constant drizzle.
Madison grumbled at the damp, foggy weather, wishing she didn't have to drive over to the mainland to get her father's truck. But the memory of Caleb taking her into his arms when she was so upset last night made her want to go to the extra trouble. He'd been there for her. She wanted to be there for him.
"That's what friends are for," she muttered, and dashed out of the office building that housed her business, ducking beneath her briefcase until she could reach her car.
After starting the motor, she turned on her wiper blades, then backed out of her parking space. As soon as she was in line to catch the next ferry, she forced herself to do what she'd been dreading all morning--call her mother.
"Madison, is it you?" her mother asked. After their conversation the night before, Annette's voice was noticeably cool. "You're cutting in and out."
A moment later, Madison inched forward along with the other cars, and her cell reception improved. "Can you hear me now?"
"Yes. Are you in the car?"
"I'm about to cross over to the mainland. I'm on my way to your place."
"Are you showing the house?"
Madison felt a twinge of guilt, because she'd had several calls on her mother's house from both agents and buyers. Just as she'd feared, some of her callers seemed more interested in the house's dramatic history and getting a peek at it than in purchasing the property. Still, there'd been some legitimate calls, as well. Legitimate calls she hadn't returned. And she'd put off the people she'd already talked to, trying to avoid selling the house until she could decide what to do with the box hidden in the crawl space. "Not today," she said. "I'm getting some interest on it, though. Maybe I'll be able set up a tour for tomorrow or Sunday."
"So why are you coming here? Brianna's in school, isn't she?"
"I'm just dropping off the comps I said I'd put together for you."
"The comps?"
"The list of homes in your area that have sold in the past few months, along with the price of each."
"Oh, right. Okay."
"And--" Madison took a deep breath "--and I was hoping to borrow Dad's truck."
Dead silence. Madison knew it was her imagination, but it felt as though the temperature had dropped another ten degrees. "Mom?" she said, cranking up her heater.
"What's going on?" her mother demanded. "Why are you suddenly interested in the truck?"
"Nothing's going on. I want to lend it to a friend, that's all."
"You know how your father felt about that vehicle."
"Of course I know." Once that witness had placed Ellis's truck at Anna Tyler's apartment, he'd become increasingly afraid to drive it. He'd parked the truck in his garage to be sure no one had access to it. At the time, the police were so determined that Ellis was their strangler and so desperate to solve the case, Madison had believed her father's concerns to be legitimate. But now she had to wonder if his paranoia revolved around a fear that Seattle detectives would plant evidence--or find it.
"This has nothing to do with the police or anything else," she continued. "I'm just trying to help Caleb, my new renter."
Another long pause. "Do you have to help him like this?"
"Mom, I'm tired of being paranoid," Madison said. "Caleb needs the truck for only a few hours. For once I'd like to respond as a normal person would. For once I'd like to say, 'Sure, no problem,' as if we don't have anything to hide."
"We don't have anything to hide," her mother replied.
"Then why can't he borrow the truck?"
Madison could tell Annette didn't like being cornered, but she'd already decided to throw her support Caleb's way. She couldn't see how it would hurt anything to help him out.